


Echoes

by ghosthorse_tracks



Category: The Third Man (1949)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:16:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghosthorse_tracks/pseuds/ghosthorse_tracks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry always took him to the strangest places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XV. Prompts: sewer, desperation, overcoat.

Holly crossed his arms over his chest, shivering in his battered overcoat. It was a bitter cold night in Vienna, and he longed for warmth, for the high sun of his cheap westerns, for anything that would evaporate the drab dampness of the dirty city. He and Harry slipped stealthily along the streets in the shadows of buildings, swiftly disappearing into any alcove they could find whenever a sound disturbed the mournful silence.

As they stepped into the moonlight, they cast long, thin shadows on the pavement surrounding their destination: a kiosk that opened into the sewers where Harry hid when he had nowhere else to go, a place that would now become a hideaway for them both. Holly hated it, having to retreat to such a place as a sewer to be with Harry, but like criminals, like racketeers, they had nowhere else to go.

Harry pushed open the door, revealing the treacherous, winding steps below. “We'll have to be quick,” he whispered. Holly nodded, pulling his overcoat more tightly around himself, and followed Harry into the darkness.

The stench struck Holly immediately. Nearly choking on the fumes, he pondered how desperate one had to be to sneak down to a sewer in the middle of the night for a tryst. His distress worsened when Harry led him across an ankle-deep river of filth, pressing him against a grimy brick wall with his body. Feeling Harry against him, inhaling his pleasant scent, reminded him what he was here for and how long it had been since the last time and just how desperate he really was. Harry grabbed him by the upturned lapels of his coat, drawing him closer, and as if reading his mind, he muttered, “You'll get used to the smell,” before mashing his lips against Holly's mouth.

It had to be quick – Harry insisted – but Holly wished it didn't have to be. He wished the kiss could last longer, wished he could lose himself in Harry's warm lips and whimper into his mouth. But it felt like no time had passed at all when Harry abruptly tore himself away from Holly, leaving his lips slick with saliva and his lapels creased and soaked in sweat. Holly watched as Harry sank to his knees in front of him. “Take off your coat,” he demanded.

“It's too cold in here.”

“It'll be easier if...” Harry began to protest, but he stopped short and stared upward with a smirk as though he'd just thought of something very clever. Before Holly could question him, Harry ducked underneath the overcoat and began his work out of sight. Holly felt a certain thrill, unable to predict Harry's next move simply by looking; glancing downward, he saw only a vague figure moving beneath the folds of his coat, yet he felt hands, skillful and knowing even in darkness, undoing his belt buckle and the buttons on his trousers. He felt the same hands shoving down his pants and undergarments, felt warm breath on his bare skin. 

Warmth suddenly enveloped him, the warmth he'd been craving – he felt Harry's lips around his cock, hot and wet. Pleasure struck him so quickly that he could not think or speak, only lean back into the wall and let out a sound that might have been laughing or crying, depending upon the listener. Fortunately, his cries fell only upon the deaf ears of the sewers, echoing through endless tunnels as Harry pleasured him with his mouth, constantly accelerating. 

Holly could no longer smell the filth or feel the cold through his coat, though his own breath appeared before him like a cloud of smoke with each heavy exhale. Harry was relentless, hardly pausing to breathe as he made his motions beneath the overcoat. He was never a tender lover, even when they had time and space. Everything was fast, always a thrill with Harry, and this time was as thrilling as any. By the time it reached a crescendo, Holly had lost control of his body, clenching his jaw and balling his hands into fists as he threw himself against the wall, desperately straining for his release. Even Harry couldn't seem to move fast enough for him. 

A final swipe of Harry's tongue on his sensitive skin plunged him into the oblivion of climax, a beautiful emptiness where thoughts mean nothing and only ecstasy exists. Yet the echoes of his final moan had not died out before Holly found himself back in reality, inside a drab, filthy sewer with the man he had loved as a youth, the man he still loved, crawling out from beneath his overcoat.

Harry stood, finally at eye level with Holly once more. His hair was all out of sorts, and his knees were stained with God-knows-what, yet he still had the nerve to say, “You should come back to my place in the Russian sector. Kurtz and Winkel won't mind...” 

Holly almost said yes. He always said yes to Harry; everyone said yes to Harry. Looking at the disheveled man standing before him, he saw for a moment the man he'd fallen for as a youth, charismatic yet trustworthy. But even the mischievous smirk that had tempted Holly so many times couldn't convince him now. He shook his head, having a funny feeling that this was the last time.


End file.
